


leave their words on the ground

by CalledFor



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalledFor/pseuds/CalledFor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura tries to work on her paper, but it's not easy when her vampire girlfriend is wearing glasses and knee socks. Besides, she's bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	leave their words on the ground

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this comic](http://toodrunktofindaurl.tumblr.com/post/109280009366/very-mucho-nsfw-please-do-not-click-the-read/)
> 
> Decided to make it even more smutty. Sorry, not sorry. This is what happens when I procrastinate writing stories with actual plot. And believe me, I have a lot of ideas. It will happen.

When a sentence you’re writing stops being a sentence after staring at it for too long, you probably should stop what you’re doing. After years of being a good student, that is one of the most important things you’ve learned.

You sigh, drop your hands in your lap, close your eyes and lean back into your chair. All you want is to be done with this paper, so you can finally relax for the first time in days.

It doesn't help that Carmilla is lounging on her bed, all comfy with _your_ yellow pillow and a book. And it certainly doesn't help that she is wearing glasses. You had asked about that and as it turned out, becoming a vampire did not cure pre-existing "defects" – as your girlfriend had called it. When asked why she didn't wear them until recently, she delivered a mumbled answer that basically translated to, "I am the night. Therefore, too cool for two pieces of glass to aid my sight."

Strangely enough, after you nonchalantly called them hot in a conversation Carmilla had overheard you having with LaF over the phone, the glasses were not such a rare sight anymore.

You look over your shoulder to stare at your vampire girlfriend. She’s far too entranced by her book to even notice the eyes traveling up her legs. Knee socks are apparently one of your weaknesses. You didn't even know about that before you met Carmilla.

There were a lot of things you didn't know before you met Carmilla.

Like how it feels to have the woman you love moaning beneath you. Or what it feels like to hear her screaming your name when she comes for you.

You catch yourself daydreaming about all the things you enjoy doing to Carmilla, and you turn towards your computer, staring at the paper with defeat in your eyes. There is no way you’re going to get anything done with this throbbing between your legs. Besides, you are really bored. A break can't hurt.

Rolling the chair backwards, you stop by Carmilla's bed. She doesn't even seem to notice that you’re there. You know that isn’t the case. She’s always aware of you. Carmilla has told you as much, in whispers late at night while lying close together. Still, playing hard to get seems to be Carmilla's second favorite thing to do – after you of course, which is pretty contradictory in your opinion.

With the building tension inside you, being ignored on purpose is just not acceptable right now, so you do the only thing you can think of and clumsily arrange yourself on the bed between Carmilla’s legs.

“Whoah!?”

You lean forward on Carmilla’s chest, looking into her eyes.

“Do we need to have the personal space-talk again, Cupcake?”

That would probably have made you laugh, if not for your body’s response to being this close to her. You put your mouth on hers instead, cupping her cheek, and you never even register the questioning noise emanating from Carmilla. You’re too busy trying to kiss your girlfriend senseless.

Apparently, you succeeded, and the book in Carmilla’s hand is dropped to the floor in favour of your hair. You moan at the sensation of the slight tug while letting your mouth trail kisses down her neck. Her hips are responding to yours and you start moving together. You absolutely adore a slow build-up like this; you are well aware that it drives her crazy. It makes you smile against her skin before you take it into your mouth and suck. The answering moan that vibrates under your lips feels like it sends hot sparks through your veins.

You have her now. You’re going to take what you want and she’s going to let you. She wants you. _That_ really strokes your ego.

Eager hands sneak under her black t-shirt and drag it upwards. You really appreciate how wrong vampire myths are because she is _so hot_ and inviting under your fingers. Why wouldn’t she be? Why would she be cold when it’s in her nature to lure and attract? It should probably be in your nature to flee, but that feels like the most unnatural thing you could ever do in her presence.

When your fingers reach her breasts, you both sigh – her from your touch, you from the lack of a bra. Your stroke her nipples and you feel them respond instantly under the pads of your thumbs. You shuffle your body a little further down, making sure that you stomach drags between her legs. She groans loudly at your tongue making contact with the skin between her breasts.

It’s fascinating to you, how she responds to the marks you place on her chest. Oh, how you cherish every little sound that escapes her lips. It makes you burn all over. How did you ever live without this? You pray to whoever listens that you won’t have to again.

You continue downwards to paint her torso red with your mouth. Art always held your interest, but you never could make it yourself.

Turns out, you were lacking the right canvas.

You briefly lift your head to admire your work. She’s truly beautiful enough by herself – head thrown back, eyes closed, chest heaving – but you definitely helped with this display. Seeing her body full of your bites and hickeys makes you heave for air and clench your jaw. You wonder if you’ll be able to finish this before you beg her to turn it around. Instead, you focus on the task at hand.

When your mouth reaches the skin between her navel and shorts, her hips push upwards and you have to fucking moan because she wants to be closer to your face. She wants your tongue on her. It’s enough to throw your ever-so-innocent demeanour out of the window and you find yourself thinking all kinds of filthy comments that you want to whisper between her thighs.

Your relationship is not quite there yet, so for now you decide to just tell yourself how fucking good she smells and how badly you want her all over your face. You know coaxing her into orgasm doesn’t have to involve words.

With that thought, you sit up on your knees to pull a hair tie from your wrist and put your hair up in a messy bun. Her legs are hugging your waist and your hips are grinding against her.

“Jesus fuck,” she huffs while covering her eyes with her hands and you can’t help the smirk that graces your lips. You place your hands on her ribs in a tight grip and stroke your fingers down her waist, feeling muscles move under her skin, until you reach the top of her shorts. You start pulling them down, baring her hipbones. There’s a vulnerability to her in the way she’s holding onto your hand and grabbing the bedsheets. She’s so beautiful like this and you are so in love.

Carmilla is getting impatient with your staring; she pushes your hand and you get the point. The shorts and her panties come off in a hurry. They don’t even make it off her leg before you lower yourself between her thighs. You can clearly see how wet she is for you and yeah – teasing is really not an option right now.

Surprisingly, you’re the one sounding the most primal when your tongue connects to her skin. You know your low moans are vibrating deliciously through her and turning her voice unusually high. You feel high too, high on her taste. It’s making you grip her thighs and pull her closer. You want her all over you. You want to be surrounded by her.

“Fucking hell, Laura!”

Your name on her lips is rare, and hearing it like this is so provocative and just so dirty. You pull back a few inches, holding your tongue out and _fuck. Just fuck._ She follows and rubs herself on it. She’s like velvet gliding up and down. She makes you feel all kinds of powerful when grinding on your face like this.

Her hands reach down to tug at your hair and bring you closer. You move forward and smile into her before giving it your all, giving her the strokes you’ve learned she likes. You feel her warmth spreading all over you and covering your body with sweat. It’s getting harder to breathe and you’re just so, so _turned on_. It makes you so wonderfully uncomfortable that you can’t help but squirm into the bed, moaning against soft folds.

She pulls your hair harder and it actually does hurt. But it hurts so good.

“Fuck… Fuck... Fuck!”

What a splendid idea. You want to do just that.

You still the movements of your mouth, but you’re quick to replace it with your fingers, so she doesn’t get the chance to protest. It’s a slow rhythm, but it’s enough to keep her moaning.

Her body tastes of more than salt when you lay kisses on her hips and all over your previous red spots. Good – they haven’t healed yet. You love leaving marks on her.

You put your lips to her jaw, sucking a bit, before lifting your head to look at her face that’s now covered in a sheen of sweat. She’s reduced to incoherent mumbles and groans. Her tightly shut eyes open to look at you. There’s that vulnerability again. The one she only shows you. It really shouldn’t make you this smug to see her like this, but you can’t help it. You can’t help being filled with overwhelming affection at that look in her eyes.

Apparently, so overwhelming that you stop moving. It takes a thrust of her hips and a whine for you to snap out of it.

You smirk at her.

“Wha-?” Is all she gets to ask, before you lean down to sink your teeth into the skin of her throat and push your fingers inside wet, tight heat. You don’t bite too hard, but it’s enough. Her answering groan is among the many sounds forever stored in your mind. You feel privileged that you get to hear the gasp that follows when you start stroking her. You feel wanted, _needed_ when she clutches your arm and pulls you closer by the neck.

You concentrate on letting her hips decide the pace, listening to her responses when you curl your fingers just right. It’s messy, desperate and intimate. Your hand is getting numb from moving faster into her, trying your best to match her thrusts, your breath is coming in short bursts and this is honestly very exhausting. With all this heat all over your body, you couldn’t possibly be happier with how heavy this feels. You don’t want it to be easy, you want it to be good.

“Ooh… Laur- Laur- Mmfh…”

Yeah, it’s good. You know it is.

You feel it in the way you’re probably going to get half-moon marks in your arm, in the way she clenches around your fingers. You hear it in the way that usually dark and smooth voice of hers turns shaky and frantic.

And it’s all because of _you_.

“Jesus, Carm,” you mumble into her ear, barely able to keep up now, but she’s already there. She’s falling apart at your hand.

“Ah- Aah… Fuck! Laura!”

Her body arches. She’s gasping. She’s shaking. You feel her little tremors of pleasure tightening around you and this is probably your favorite feeling in the world. No, it _definitely_ is.

When she finally relaxes, you just collapse on top of her, trying to catch your breath. Her arms slide around you and she kisses the top of your head, while you place little kisses down her jaw.

It soon becomes apparent to you that either you need a cold shower, or you need your girlfriend inside you. You hope for the latter, but you kinda did this to be playful – To tease. You want to see what she does next, so you sit up on the bed and let your hair down again.

“Can I… Know what just happened?” Her voice is all raspy. It’s like you can feel the vibrations run down your spine and you try your hardest not to shiver.

You can’t help but smile when you turn to look at her flushed, slightly confused face. It’s a lovely sight. You offer her an innocent shrug.

“I was bored and you looked cute in those glasses.” You notice how damp they’ve gotten. “They are all foggy, haha!”

And then her familiar smirk returns. “You’ll be the death of me.”

You only laugh and rise from the bed, but you don’t get far. A hand grabs yours and you’re thrown right back into the mattress with a little yelp escaping your mouth.

Carmilla removes her glasses, throws her hair back and flashes you a telling grin.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

**Author's Note:**

> I go by honestlynatalie on tumblr. Come say hi!


End file.
